Warm and Fuzzy
by webgeekist
Summary: Castle and Beckett find a new friend.  If you like a little fluff in your life...you can't get any more literal than this.
1. Chapter 1

_Damn you, O Muse, for keeping my brain occupied with plotlines instead of the work piling up on my desk._

_For those of you that needed a higher fluff quotient after my last story...enjoy. Plenty of fuzziness to come. Also, some shedding. But I digress._

* * *

It was snowing in the city. For a place with an average snowfall of just over a foot, it seemed to snow a lot. The winter had been long and cold, and while it was technically spring, if you were out in the streets of Manhattan in anything less than your finest winter coat and a thick pair of gloves, you would live to regret the moment you decided to leave your apartment.

Much like the southern states, New York City had a bad tendency of shutting down if it started snowing. It's a little-known fact they forget to put in the movies and the TV shows and the tourist brochures. The city could handle a little snow, as could any U.S. city north of Austin and Orlando, but the second white stuff started accumulating on the ground, traffic ground to a teeth-grinding, hair-wrenching halt.

The streets were covered by several inches of white stuff. The city that never sleeps was, for the most part, at least still.

A blanket of snow also softened the sounds of the rambunctious, loud city. Never would you hear Manhattan so quiet as while it was snowing.

But snow only _dampened_ gunshots. It couldn't muffle them completely.

A man in a hoodie and faded jeans half-ran, half-slid down a narrow, trash-filled alley. In his left hand was a gun, in his right a duffle bag. He slid to a stop in front of a rickety fire escape, hopped onto a dumpster, and leapt onto the railing leading up to the roof of a seven-story brick apartment building.

Not far behind him was a woman dressed in a smart black wool pea coat and a red scarf, a gun in her right hand and a walkie-talkie in her left. She followed his trail in the snow, shouting directions into the handset, until she slid to a barely-controlled halt in front of the fire escape as her quarry continued his speedy ascent. The man was already on the sixth story, climbing the last ladder to the roof.

She sighed. There was no way she'd catch him.

But cold weather equalizes things that ought not to be equal.

His gloveless hands had a hard time gripping the ladder rungs, and halfway up the last story his numb and frozen grip slipped. Instinctively, he lurched forward with his other hand to stop his fall. In the process, all his precious cargo was released to the whims of gravity.

The man let out a loud curse as his gun and bag fell back to the alley below, landing at the woman's feet. She looked back up at him as he paused to look down at is lost prize. Finally, he cursed again and continued climbing the rest of the way to the roof.

She looked after him, as if considering whether or not to continue her pursuit. Finally, she decided the bag was more important, and the gun would have his fingerprints. She'd let the proper precinct handle tracking down the thief. With the danger passed, she finally lowered her gun.

Her lunch hour was over, anyway.

She and her partner had been at lunch a few blocks away when the man with the duffel bag had robbed the convenience store next door. The two had watched the thief run away carrying the bag and gun, and she was on her feet and out the door before the distraught shop owner crossed in front of the bistro window.

She was, after all, a cop.

"Beckett!" Her lunch companion finally caught up to her. He wasn't out of shape, but the thief had been running so fast that even she had a hard time keeping up. As her partner wasn't technically a cop, she hadn't expected him to actually keep up.

Kate Beckett lifted the thief's lost bag. "Gravity's a bitch," she said. "What took you so long, Castle?"

Richard Castle looked at her with a disapproving scowl, but his only answer was a long series of puffs and wheezes.

The alley was narrow, crowded with foul-smelling trash cans and heaps of accumulated litter, all dusted with several inches of fine white powder. The harsh, frozen wind whipped through, stirring up snowflakes and the acrid stench of frozen rot.

She heard a rustle next to the dumpster, in a pile of papers. In an instant, Beckett had her gun back up. Castle took a position behind her as she inched forward.

"NYPD. Who's there?"

There was no response. Carefully, Beckett stepped closer to the pile, finally getting close enough to nudge the trash heap with the toe of her boot.

She got a response that time: a tiny whimper.

The two partners looked at each other before digging through the stack of junk. When they finally reached the source of the sound, Kate gasped.

The whimper had come from a tiny puppy, no more than six weeks old. It was huddled up, desperate for warmth. Its little body was skinny, and she could see the dog's ribs through her patchy black and tan fur.

Exposed, cold, the pup just shivered and whimpered.

"Oh…"

She froze for a moment, her heart melting at the sight of the helpless animal. The pup didn't try to get up, instead just looking up at the new, very large humans that had removed its source of warmth with large black eyes.

Overcome with a mix of guilt and compassion, Beckett leaned over and scooped the dog into her warm arms. When, after a few moments, the shivering hadn't ceased, she loosened her red scarf with her free hand and wrapped it around her tiny charge.

The shivering continued, but its tail started to wag.

She looked again at the roof: her thief was long gone. She sighed and picked up the bag, then turned to begin the walk back to the store.

"What are we going to do with it?"

"I'll take it to Animal Control."

Her human companion raised an eyebrow at her. "Really? You're going to let them just put that cutie down?"

"Castle, don't be such a drama queen," she said, rolling her eyes as she spoke. "They'll send her to a shelter."

"Uh huh," he replied, a definite hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"Would you like the dog?"

"Er, no," Castle replied.

"I didn't think so. Shelter, it is."

They weren't halfway back to the shop and restaurant before the shopkeeper had come back. In somewhat broken English, he began to express his thanks at the two for having recovered the money the thief had made off with. The bundle in Beckett's arm moved as the grateful man spoke.

"Oh! You have dog! I get food."

The man rushed back into his shop, appearing again a few moments later with a small bag of Puppy Chow.

"Oh…no. No, I'm a cop. This is my job. I don't need you to give me anything."

"Not for you! For the dog! Please…my thanks. To the dog!"

Some uniforms finally arrived on scene. She took the dog food off his hands. "Fine. I'll take it to the pound with the dog."

She and Castle settled their lunch bill as the uniforms from the 22nd precinct handled their beat. Paid up and statement-free five minutes later, the pair began walking back to Beckett's police interceptor.

"So, boy or girl."

"What?"

Castle nodded at the dog. "Boy or girl."

"Oh." She flipped the dog over briefly. "Girl."

"Aww. She needs a name. Snowy? Naw, she's not white."

"Don't name the dog, Castle."

"Stinky! I mean, she does need a bath, and you found her in a pile of trash."

Sighing, she looked back down at the puppy. Her shivering had stopped, though her tail still wagged. She turned her black and tan face up to her savior and sniffed at the air, climbing slightly out of her comfortable cocoon to get closer.

"She is kinda cute, isn't she?"

Just as the words left her mouth, the dog started licking her cheek.

"I think she likes you, Kate!"

She could feel the dog's tail wag against her arm, and the warm puppy kisses might have melted her heart just a little more. She pulled away and looked into the dog's dark, shiny eyes.

"Well," she started, "the roads are just about shut down. I probably couldn't get her to a shelter or a vet today." She lifted the bag the grateful shopkeeper had handed her. "And I happen to have some puppy food."

"You should keep her, Beckett!"

"No." She shook her head. "I don't need a dog. I don't have time for a dog."

They climbed back into her cruiser. The small animal immediately curled up on the seat beside her and fell asleep.

"But…maybe she can stay the night at my place."

* * *

This is one of those stories that may never end. Keep watching this space.


	2. Chapter 2

_I thought I'd mention I'm accepting suggestions and/or plot bunnies. I have a few ideas, but not really enough to constitute what would traditionally be a complete and well-written story. At the moment, it's really just a series of loosely-related scenes._

_I've wanted to do this for a while. Beckett and Castle's new friend is modeled after my own found puppy. She's seven months old, smart as a whip, fast as a bullet...and hyper as hell. They're in for a ride._

* * *

She tried to at least get hold of a vet.

She started with the ones closest to the precinct, then started peppering the ones between the station and her apartment. Nobody picked up.

In hopes that someone else, maybe one of her co-workers with kids, would see the dog and run off with it, she kept it confined to a large box by her desk for the afternoon. She filled her coffee cup with water and found a small dish to put food in. Just in case the little furball was younger than their estimate, Kate watered down the food and let it soak before dropping it in the box. She didn't have to worry – her furry friend inhaled the food like she hadn't eaten in days. With a wry smile, the detective added more food to the dish.

She was certainly the most popular person in the bullpen that day, but it didn't go very far – the weather was keeping a lot of people away from their desks, so though everyone was curious about the small creature poking its cute puppy face over the edge of the box, none of the officers present that day wanted or needed another mouth to feed.

It was a slow day. Castle had decided to tag along despite the fact that they had no case, just to play with the puppy. Beckett took advantage of the downtime by finishing some paperwork.

By 3:30, it was clear nothing interesting would happen that day.

"You should take the dog, Castle."

"What? Me?" The puppy was upside down in his hands, gnawing on one of his fingers. "Noooo. That's the last thing I need. Can you imagine what my mother would do to this dog? I'd be buying designer outfits in size Extra Small Pooch, paying for doggie spa treatments…it would ruin me."

The dog, having noticed that her playmate had stopped playing, rolled out of his hands and onto the floor, landing awkwardly.

"What about Fuzzy?"

Kate frowned at her paperwork. "I thought you were a writer."

"Sweetheart?"

"Stop trying to name the dog we're not keeping, Castle."

"We could name her Lanie," he suggested.

Kate looked up from her desk, then turned down to her partner. "Just remember…the human Lanie knows how to kill you and make it look like an accident."

The afternoon wore on. They finally gave up at 4:30 – the weather was only going to get worse. Beckett packed the dog and Castle up, gave him a ride home, then continued on to her own apartment.

Once home, she fed the fuzzy one again, reasoning that she looked too skinny and could probably use all the food she cared to eat. While the pup finished her meal, Kate prepared the bathroom with several fluffy towels for a bed, newspaper, and a bowl of water before returning to the living room.

She watched the animal explore the apartment a little after her meal, then guided her outside a few minutes later. After the mealtime necessities were finished, they went back inside. For the second part of the dog's domestication.

"You, Little One, _really_ need a bath."

The dog paused in her exploration and looked up at the sound of the voice. As Kate reached down for her, the puppy's tail wagged happily. Her human handler sighed.

What a life this poor little thing has led that the simple act of holding her brings her such happiness.

Kate had a dog once, when she was very small. It was a tiny little furball named Coco, and she hardly remembered it. The city wasn't a good place for a dog, and with the family's busy schedule it had been impractical to get another pet.

So, naturally, Kate's best effort at puppy cleaner was her rosemary and mint-scented shampoo.

The dog didn't seem to like water. She doubted it had ever been near so much of it, and while the bath was warm, Kate couldn't figure out how she would have felt the first time her parents doused her with wet stuff. But soon, the dog was walking around in the tub, and even tried to lay down in it for a moment before it figured out breathing underwater was a problem.

Clean, she wrapped the puppy in a towel and wandered back into her living room. She placed the wrapped and drying dog in her lap, where it seemed content to just curl up and sleep. She shrugged a moment later and picked up a book.

They were like that for a while before her phone buzzed. She knew who it would be before her hand reached the phone.

_Leia._

She rolled her eyes. _Don't name the dog._

_Why not? The dog needs a name._

_She's not staying. Let her owners pick the name._

There was a pause in the text conversation. For a moment, she thought it might be over.

_Mother suggested Lily._

She would be wrong.

_Does your mother want the dog?_

_Yes she does. So no, she doesn't._

Kate shook her head. _Then she wouldn't be that new owner I mentioned._

The pup shifted in her lap. Before she could think about it, her hand came to rest over the small creature.

Mostly dry now, the pup's mostly fur was soft and silky to the touch. Now clean, she could see where her paws were white, and her legs were tan along the insides, but black along the outside. Her coloring looked like a German Shepherd or a Doberman.

Except she was pretty sure neither breed was so fluffy, and that their noses would be longer…and that the puppy would have bigger paws.

The detective had to admit the dog was adorable, especially when she looked up at her with those shiny, almost black eyes.

Her phone buzzed again.

_Alexis suggests Emma._

Kate looked down at the dog. She had to admit it suited her. It wasn't so sweet it rotted her teeth, and it wasn't so plain that seven dogs would come running to it in a dog park.

It was about that time that she stared yawning, and she decided it was time to go to bed. It was a little early still, but they'd just wrapped up a long case, and she hadn't quite caught up on her sleep yet. Kate carefully transplanted the sleeping dog into the bathroom, shut the door, and climbed into bed.

Fifteen minutes later, the whining started.

She'd expected it, so she let it be for a while. Eventually, she'd just go back to sleep.

But the whining turned to mewling, then to very loud howling.

She gave it a good effort, but twenty minutes later, she couldn't handle it anymore.

She walked to the bathroom with the honest intention of just letting the puppy go back to sleep. As she opened the door, she yawned.

"Okay, Pup. You have to learn how to be quiet."

The dog scampered over to her feet and sat. Smiling, Kate sat on the floor and let her climb back into her lap.

As she waited for the puppy to fall deep enough into sleep to be moved again, she rested her head against the wall. Her hand idly scratched the dog's head.

The puppy was asleep again within minutes.

Unfortunately, so was Kate.


End file.
